Eh...hard to explain. A while back I had this obscure idea for a post-K2 fic, which I started...sort of...but that only led me to realize the story shouldn't start there. So I went way back in time, and wound up with a story about Revan's empire, before Malak overthrows him. And then a few more ideas popped into mind, but those will come in due time.

In any case, the story takes place about a year before K1; it has been two years since Revan first began his invasion of the Republic, and the war isn't going well. But I won't bore you with all the exposition.

This is the beginning of Part 1...or maybe it's Chapter 1. I don't know. It's either going to be a series of loosely-connected short stories or a novel. Not sure. Yeah, I'm terrible at this, aren't I? If anyone has suggestions...well, it's obvious that I need them.

But enough of my ramblings...I'll get to the story (by the way, thanks to Freesourceful at KFM for beta-reading thus far). I'll put everything in italics, since I'm too lazy to go through each line and figure out what's supposed to be in italics anyway.

Revan’s footsteps echoed across the surface of Malachor as he climbed the wide stone steps of the Trayus Academy. Armor-clad Sith assassins knelt on either side, bowing before their Dark Lord. Revan ignored them; more important matters that required his attention.

No, he should not say that. The Force connects all life, and its will answers to all it touches. At the right moment, under the right circumstance, one person could change the face of the galaxy forever. Revan may have scorned the Jedi ways, but he did not scorn their teachings entirely. After all, he had witnessed the truth of this firsthand twice already in his short life, once before his departure from the Order, and once afterwards.

He took the time to greet each apprentice, congratulating them for making it so far. Most were recent graduates of the academy on Korriban, a few from Lehon and Dxun. More importantly, the ability to control the Force lied in each of them, though some did not yet know. Some he would train to use the Force, others he would train to resist it. All would make excellent hunters. He—or one of the many knights and masters that had joined his cause—would teach them to track and capture Jedi, to convert those that would see the wisdom of the Sith, and to kill those that would not.

A slight breeze tickled his skin as he neared the Trayus Core, a deep chasm created when the Mass Shadow Generator tore apart the planet’s gravity well, hurling dozens of starships to the surface, and crushing anything in between. Out of the wreckage rose the Trayus Academy, an ancient center of Sith teachings, where Revan had learned how echoes such as Malachor could have a far more profound impact than the Jedi could imagine, how one could create such echoes. It was where he shared his knowledge with others; Malachor was the true home of the Sith. The temples of Dxun, Korriban, and Lehon were mere shadows of the Trayus Academy.

The Trayus Core was the heart of the academy; standing on the edge of the cliff, gazing into the fractured planet, one could feel the power of the place, all the lives lost, and the wound that remained. There were strengths in such wounds, strengths that Revan had learned to exploit. It was there that he had created the first of many manipulations that would eventually put an end to the Jedi Order.

Revan looked ahead, catching the first glimpse of the eight obsidian pillars that encircled the Trayus Core as he descended the narrow stone walkway that led to the large meditation chamber at the center of the Core. His inner voice tempted him to turn around, to return to the Lotan and forget this terrible place. But there was no turning back.

At last he saw her, sitting—as usual—on the wide, crimson gem at the center. Originally, dozens of crystals lined both the walls and floor of the Trayus Core. From what Revan had read in the library’s few remaining texts, the academy’s builders constructed the Core using materials imbued with the dark side of the Force—at least, the texts claimed so; Revan didn’t believe a word of it, though he once excavated one of the gems out of curiosity. Its structure seemed identical with that of a lightsaber crystal. Six months later, only one remained; the rest Revan had shipped to a refinery, in order to process them into focusing crystals. The headmistress of the academy had objected, but respected his decision. And in return he respected her bizarre belief in the crystals, letting her keep at least one for personal use, as she did then.

Traya closed her eyes, and opened her sight, listening to the whispers that poured from the heart of the planet. “Malachor casts echoes that shall never die.”

Revan approached her with caution. He still had his doubts, and the urge to return to his ship couldn’t be stronger.

“You have done well—you have done here what Sith of previous generations could only dream of.”

“What I did was an atrocity.”

“Yes, it was.”

Revan turned away, but waited for her to continue.

“But it was necessary. You know this.” Traya rose and faced her former student. “And you have come here to discuss something else.”

Revan said nothing.

“Tell me, what is it that troubles you?”

“The Star Forge.”

“Bah! You should not concern yourself with such things.”

“But it destroyed the Raktans—it destroyed their entire empire. And if I continue to use that thing it will destroy me as well, and all that we have created.”

“It is a machine, nothing more.”

“A machine created Malchor, Traya.”

“No, you created Malachor. Never forget that.”

Traya closed her eyes, concentrating all her senses on the chasm below. “What do you see, when you look at your empire? What do you see when you gaze into the heart of Malachor?”

“Nothing. Emptiness, which must be filled.”

“Do not patronize me. If you seek to always answer my questions correctly, then you will never learn. Now tell me what you see.”

“I see a fifty-seven percent decrease in grain production on Dantooine. I see an eighty-nine percent rise of the price of fuel on Sleheyron. I see a sixty-three percent fatality rate of our fighters, and twelve percent of our Interdictors. I see emptiness which must be filled. And all I have to fill it with is this blasted Star Forge.”

“Trivial matters. You will win this war, despite these setbacks.”

“I will win this war, yes. I will defeat the Jedi—that is inevitable. But at what cost? What of the Republic? Will I destroy that as well?”

“The Republic shall survive, as it always has.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her. He always squinted when something felt wrong, as if straining his eyes would make things clearer. Traya never told Revan of his tell; in order for him to overcome it, he must discover it on his own. And so she resumed her meditation, allowing Revan to complete his thought process. He would have to solve this problem alone as well. She knew how strong a hold the Republic had on his heart, just how far he would go to saving his country…even if it meant destroying himself in the process. She had no desire to make things any more difficult by getting in his way.

“We never should have gone after Foerost.”

Traya raised her eyebrows. Though Revan stood over two meters away, he could still see her face clearly. Those dark, lifeless pupils burned him with unsettling intensity.

“We never should have gone after Foerost,” he repeated. “We showed our hand too soon. Our attack gave the Republic opportunity to pool their resources and protect every other shipyard in the galaxy. That allowed us to make some key victories at first…Telos, Dxun. But it also gave the Republic a chance to replace their lost numbers.”

“They will beat you with sheer numbers—is that your concern?”

“No…we have the Star Forge. We can outnumber them…in terms of fighters and starships. Whether we should is another matter.”

“Ah, as your use of the Star Forge continues, your dependency upon it shall grow, until you need it to survive. You fear its power will overwhelm you.”

“No,” he lied.

“Always so difficult, padawan.” How he loathed that term. “Always so…apprehensive—no…hesitant, cautious.”

“And shouldn’t I be?”

“Perhaps you should listen to the Jedi. The only thing you truly have to fear is fear itself.”

“And what good will that do? Fearing fear…you might as well hope for hope.”

“Very well, I apologize for interrupting.”

He glanced to his right, expecting to see those bleak eyes, only to find one of the five inner pillars of the Core. He must have been pacing again. He turned to his left and stared at her for longer than he’d like. He only now realized how much she had interrupted.

“Foerost,” she reminded him.

“We should have waited. We struck at the Republic itself too soon, and we’ve been paying for it ever since.”

“So you would have allowed the Republic to keep their precious shipyards? To refuel their energies of war?”

No, he didn’t believe that either. Not only did the loss of the shipyards at Foerost cripple the Republic so early on, but the attack served to fool the Republic command—and more importantly, the Jedi Council. Both would assume Revan and his forces had captured the shipyards, using them to bolster the Sith fleet. Never would they suspect the true origin of Revan’s ships. Never would they suspect the Star Forge.

“No, we had to take Foerost,” Revan decided. “But we could have waited.”

“A sneak attack—that is what you desired. Something to shock the Republic and its people.”

“But it didn’t…it only encouraged them to fight back. It inspired the Republic, and it ruined the surprise of any future attack…like Telos.”

Traya could see no flaw in his logic, however much she might dislike the conclusion to which it led. Revan had not authorized the attack on Telos, and he knew Traya had not approved of the attack. More importantly, she never accepted that Revan had not made the decision; he had handed the command to his apprentice—for a time. He knew they needed to capture Telos at some point, though he hadn’t the courage to make the decision himself. And Traya would never forgive him for that.

But Malak had made the right decision. Telos’ location on several major hyperspace routes made its capture a strategic victory, and the planet was no longer was suitable for use by the Jedi…though the Sith had no use for a radioactive planet either. Revan wished his apprentice had used more discretion, but at least Malak had taken action where he could not.

And Revan had managed to salvage a victory from the loss of Telos. The facilities at Foerost—which Revan had captured, as the Republic suspected—now rested in a military base deep beneath the planet’s surface, fueling Revan’s war against the Jedi. But Traya still disapproved; she had not scolded Revan or punished him in any way—that was not her place—but he knew her stance. And Revan had learned from his error. He would not make the same mistake again. Perhaps that was enough.

“You still avoid heart of the matter, padawan. You nearly reached it earlier, when I interrupted you.” He squinted once more. “Again, I apologize,” Traya added.

What had he said? They could use the Star Forge to recover their losses. His top engineers had already brought the station to sixty-seven percent capacity, and were dying to go further. Revan ordered them to show restraint, but Revan was never one to resist curiosity. He longed to see just what the Star Forge could do, but he forced himself to show restraint as well. The engineers could raise the station’s efficiency in a heartbeat, outmatching all of the Republic’s facilities combined…if he desired. The Sith fleet’s ships would outnumber the Republic’s by ten.

“The ships…”

He remembered now. They could outnumber the Republic—in terms of ships.

“Yes?”

“We can have more ships than the Republic, but the manpower to run them—no, not the manpower, the people—is another matter. When we kill one soldier of the Republic, we inspire dozens more to join the fight. And yet none ever come to our side without force. We are invading their homes, destroying their livelihood. The more we fight, the more they fight back. They have a greater will to—”

This time he interrupted himself.

“A little grain here and a few barrels of oil there won’t bring down the Republic. Resources are replaceable.”

“Just like your ships.”

“Just like our ships. We outnumber the Republic. We have more ships, more weapons, more shipyards, more raw materials…but they have a far greater resource.”

“People.”

“Not just people…Jedi.”

He saw it now.

”This war was supposed to be quick, Traya—one swift invasion of the galaxy, with minimal casualties and no damage to the infrastructure of the Republic itself. And instead—“

“And instead, the war has turned into a war between Jedi. Something you feared would happen. Something I told you to prepare for.”

“And I did, but it’s not enough.”

“How many times must I repeat myself before you listen?”

Revan sighed and took a seat beside her.

“This war is not fought with machines or weapons. It is waged within the hearts of men.”

Revan nodded. He had discovered years before that arguing with Traya was a futile effort.

“What you believe in your heart—that is all that matters.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “That, and what lies in the hearts of those that follow you.”

Revan stood and looked into the chasm beneath the Trayus Core. “Malak.”

“Much ambition in that one. You were wise to have chosen him as your apprentice—but that decision could easily become a folly, if he remains unchecked.”

“I know. But I still have time. He’d be foolish to challenge me now.”

“As you would be foolish to question me, apprentice.”

Revan smiled and bowed to his former master before departing. He passed by the five inner columns, and then the eight outer ones, much swifter than before. He’d had enough of Malachor for one day, and the echoes cast far more doubt than was comfortable.

And now he had even more issues to deal with than when he arrived. Malak would be a problem, soon. Too soon. The Star Forge could be just as deadly, if he came to depend upon its power as much as the Raktans had. But he would not allow it to destroy his empire as it had theirs. The Star Forge was a factory, nothing more. It churned out ships, and ensured that the war continued as it had.

But this war was not about ships or droids or which side had more factories. This war was about people, about soldiers, about Jedi. And he would need Jedi—a lot of them. One Jedi in particular, if what he planned had any chance of succeeding. But how?

As always, Malachor left him with more questions than answers. But, as always, those answers would be enough…for a time.

Questions, comments, or suggestions would be most welcome. You can even point and laugh if you want; I'll take anything at this point.

Oh, and I do have a bit more done...but I'm saving that for later (not quite done yet). Oh, and the title is just a placeholder...can't think of anything better right now. Both stories are about DS Revan/Exile (as well as other Sith), so I guess it fits, even if it's been done already.

I like it myself, the logic of the war is well thought out, and your Revan is a Revan after my own heart One little thing I'm confused about though... The temples you mentioned on Dxun, Korriban and Lehon... They're of the Rakata aren't they? And I'm fairly certain Trayus is something else. Regardless, that's a small detail in an otherqise very fine opening

Location: Trapped in the space-Time Continuum with only my laptop and enough food to live

Posts: 5

Quote:

Originally Posted by Salzella

I like it myself, the logic of the war is well thought out, and your Revan is a Revan after my own heart One little thing I'm confused about though... The temples you mentioned on Dxun, Korriban and Lehon... They're of the Rakata aren't they? And I'm fairly certain Trayus is something else. Regardless, that's a small detail in an otherqise very fine opening

I agree. Very well thought out. I very much like the way it is turning out and encourage you to keep going!

~KD

heh... dunno what to say... well... I love star wars... I'm a computer geek(and proud of it! )... and my old computer stopped working because i made so many mods that my hard drive wouldn't do anything... oh well.. now i've got a tablet pc! ok i guess that's it... you all are probably creeped out enough. Signing Off.